


The Chain

by shelbswrites



Category: The Originals (TV) RPF
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Mikaelson - Freeform, Protective Elijah Mikaelson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:15:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27281800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shelbswrites/pseuds/shelbswrites
Summary: Avila Langmore is the last of her bloodline. A granddaughter of a family of witches who’s first borns have been hunted by the Black Sorceress Dahlia for 1000 years. When sixteen year old Avila takes a vacation to New Orleans with her friends, she turns down the wrong street at the wrong time and finds more about her family history than she ever really wanted to know.
Relationships: Elijah Mikaelson/Original Female Character(s), Klaus Mikaelson/Original Male Character(s), Mikaelson Family & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is as intertwined with the canon universe as I can stand to make it. An AU where Elijah is the first to have a family, but in Mikaelson fashion, it’s ripped away from him. I wanted to see him in a much more fatherly role than he was allowed to be in the series and I’m giving him the chance now. I very much hope you enjoy this quarantine writing practice!

The earliest thing she remembered was the way Granny used to make apple pie. How gently she regarded every ingredient as she led it to its final resting place. The same way she regarded all the potions and spells she’d ever passed down to her grandchildren, of which now there was only one. Avila Langmore was all the family her grandmother had left, and the last of her line to carry magic inside her.  
Her family had been on the run for the better part of a thousand years, from a darkness she had never seen, but had been named long ago. Dahlia. The most powerful witch in existence.

The legend said that her sister made a bargain with her in exchange for fertility. The sacrifice was much larger than the younger witch had anticipated, and when the time came to pay, she realized the price she had parlayed was too high. Her first born child, a daughter, was to be given to her sister in exchange for the ability to continue to create the family she so desperately desired. When she protested, Dahlia grew indignant, and added the price of every first born from every generation to come from her sister’s bloodline.  
Though she practiced every day, the younger sister’s power was nothing in comparison to Dahlia’s growing darkness. Even when they traveled to the New World, as far away from Dahlia as they could go, the darkness followed. Nothing was the same, and the family would never know peace again. Esther never told her husband of the deal she made, rather wanting him to think their sweet girl dead instead of bargained away. That lie was the first of many that would weave a horrid web through generations.  
  
Though the family played at normalcy, even betrothing their second eldest son to a well liked girl in their newly established village, the darkness bubbled like magma beneath the surface. And everything erupted all at once. 

Many an indiscretion passed between members of the family that were never mentioned.

  
This handsome son did eventually marry his betrothed, and she soon grew with child. Esther made the mistake of hiding Dahlia’s presence, thinking she could fight her sister’s power. She secretly placed cloaking spells, enchantments meant to conceal, and for a time, it seemed to work. In the peak month of the winter solstice, she was gifted a grandson, as fair as her eldest daughter had been, and soon after his fourth birthday, it was excitedly announced he would not be alone in his parents’ affections. A second child had been conceived. But their joy was short lived.

Dahlia came on the boy’s fifth birthday, as she had come for her niece years before. Only one of her children had begun to tap into his magic, and Esther was without support in the battle against her sister. The boy was taken in the night, though not without a fight, or the collateral damage that battles always bring. In an effort to ease her son’s grief and hide her own guilt, she used her spells to convince her family the boy had drowned in the river while playing with his peers. In time, the grief subsided, and Esther sewed the tatters of her family together like she always had.  
But it seemed the threads to her life were never tight enough to stay in place. She wanted so badly to stay a family, but nothing ever seemed to work in her favor. 

The locals of the New World included a pack of men who had the power to change into wolves by the light of the full moon. They had always lived peacefully among them, though they kept their distance. But her third eldest son was always drawn to them, to the disgust of his father. He would sneak away often to watch the transformations occur. One night, he took his youngest brother out to view the spectacular scene, and unlike every other night, the wolves noticed the boys. They attacked in a savage rage, and the younger of the two was killed.  
Incensed by yet another loss, Esther’s husband forced her with the threat of violence to create a spell that would give his children the power to fight the accursed beasts themselves. She did his bidding, but to horrible consequences. Though her children and husband were now strong and fast and nearly impervious to most danger; they were now undead, overcome with an insatiable bloodlust, and the inability to walk among people in the daylight. Their family line had been ended in the most horrific way. The latter could be solved with a set of enchanted rings, for the former there was no solution. The children slaughtered nearly half the village, entirely out of control of their bodies. Esther’s daughter in law was taken in the slaughter.

Her second son, the most loyal and steadfast and empathetic, was absolutely overcome by his guilt. He carried his wife’s corpse to Esther’s door, unsure of what to do. Looking at her son, covered in the blood of his lover, gave Esther a sort of nauseous horror. She took the girl’s body, still swollen with a baby she would never birth, and erased her poor son’s memory. Taking the blame in his mind for his own atrocities, the butcher’s door was closed to these memories of his monstrous form.

To her shock, as Esther prepared to dispose of the corpse, the girl’s belly gave one last enormous heave. The child she had thought lost to Death was expelled from her mother’s womb, very much alive. Knowing the danger she would be in if she stayed among her now beastly kin, Esther stole away into the night to find someone else to take the child in. Eventually she gave up, miles away from her home. She soothed the child to sleep, and left her in the forest, hopefully to find a peaceful death.

Avila was proof that that was not at all the case. Another village had been established near where the baby had been abandoned, and a young man on a hunt found her there. She was taken back and adopted under the name Kára due to her dark curly hair, and raised a relatively normal child. The Norse people have no shortage of witches in their bloodline, and mixed with the natives of the region created a powerful magic that was passed down more frequently than ever before. Kára, unknowing of her heritage, was not prepared when Dahlia came for her daughter.  
Clinging to her two remaining children, she cried out in vain as the cruel woman and her two wards whisked Sif away into the forest, leaving the bodies of her husband, father and brothers in their wake.  
From then on, descendants of Kára made well to try to avoid witches altogether. Having figured out the pattern of the kidnapping of first born children, each family tried to have as many children as they could in a short amount of time, in case the eldest should be born with magic in their blood. But as is the case with witches and humans alike, they had more enemies than just Dahlia. Some mundane, some fantastical, each member of Esther’s continued bloodline died off throughout the centuries. Until only Sapphire Mitchell and her granddaughter remained.

As far as cursed family lines go, Avila felt lucky. A second born with magic was fairly common, but almost always followed a first born that had the gift as well. But Micah was as ordinary as could be. Granny sensed it when he was born. Apparently witches (especially old ones) were good at sniffing out potential from the get go. And so, Avila got to spend her formative years with both her parents and an older sibling, unlike many of her ancestors.  
  
That was, until he drove his car off a bridge when he was seventeen. Dad had let him drive home from the high school basketball game as a gift for playing so well. And in return he jerked the wheel silently into the Etowah River. Never gave a reason or a warning; it seemed like they just disappeared forever. Now you see _me—abra kadabra_ —poof! Now you don’t.  
This never sat right with Avila, but every adult she knew had agreed it was the work of someone who had been very damaged for a long time. Every elder gave their condolences at the funeral and Granny silently accepted them. When fourteen year old Avila asked if she believed what they were saying about Micah, she replied, “Darlin’, I love you, but my thoughts ain’t nobody’s business.”

And so they lived a relatively quiet life. Avila graduated high school a year early, and already being the youngest in her class made her a sixteen year old with a lot of time on her hands. She practiced her spells, her alchemy, her hexes. She spent time with Granny’s cat, Bartholomew, who had first been affectionately nicknamed “Bart” and then further “Fart”. Sometimes he didn’t mind her incessant coddling, and the scars on her hands proved that sometimes he in fact, did. As it was summer, she sometimes picked peaches from the groves near her home. All in all it was a peaceful, if not entirely boring existence.  
  
Then, just after the Fourth of July, Avila’s friend Abbie Brown called and asked if she wanted to travel to New Orleans for a couple weeks. Her family and a couple other friends were traveling there for a vacation and to meet with some of her father’s business clients. Unsure, she asked Granny for permission.

“Well, do you want to go?” Granny purred in her signature rasp.

“I—I don’t know,” Avila stammered, nervous. Maybe Granny was tricking her somehow.

Sapphire cackled. “Oh yes you do, baby. I only want you to go if _you_ want to go. You deserve some fun before you’re my age and just thinking about New Orleans gives you a hangover.”

Avila grinned in relief, her grey eyes sparkling in excitement. “You mean it?”

“Of course, darlin’. Although I mean “hangover” in a metaphorical sense. Under no circumstances are you to get _drunk_ , do you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Avila chirped, running forward to give her grandmother a tight hug. “Thank you, Granny!”

The old woman chuckled, patting her granddaughter’s back. “You’re very welcome, sweetheart.”

And with that, Avila ran to her room to call Abbie and let her know that indeed, she would be coming to New Orleans for the better half of July.

When the Brown family came to pick her up, Avila was more excited than she could remember being in a long time. She slung her bags over her shoulder as she kissed Granny goodbye, and tried to give Bart a pat which he swiftly dodged. As she headed down the porch steps, grinning from ear to ear, she suddenly got a strange feeling. A feeling that this would be the last time she ever saw this house, or her grandmother, ever again. For a moment she thought of apologizing to her friends and turning back into the house. But she ignored that gut dropping sensation and got into the SUV to greet her companions.

The Elders of old would have called that feeling a premonition. They also would’ve told her to heed it, and heed it well. But the Elders of old were not there to guide her, at least not in a way Avila would’ve noticed or cared to listen to. As the black Chevy SUV merged onto the interstate, Avila’s ears were filled with the music from her phone and an exhilarating feeling that her life was now truly about to begin.


	2. Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avila’s first night in New Orleans leads to an encounter with beasts both ordinary and horrific. Secrets kept are secrets that harm, and it seems she’s going to learn it the hard way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for sexual assault. Please be careful and read at your own discretion! I hope you enjoy this latest chapter!

The air smelled different here. He had noticed it the moment he had crossed the Louisiana state line, and it only got stronger the closer he inched to New Orleans. Maybe it was just in his head, but Elijah Mikaelson was more inclined to believe otherwise. This place, from the bayou to the city streets smelled of the supernatural, and their stench could make your eyes water. 

Of course, none of the human inhabitants would notice a thing, their untrained senses dulled to the utmost extent to all the things that go bump in the night. The evening air was heavy, sultry even. His senses as a younger man might have been overwhelmed, but his mind had become accustomed to the intense high of his vampire body’s responses. Although repressing memories was still as difficult as it had been a thousand years ago. He cringed inwardly at the destruction he and his siblings wreaked amongst the people here for almost 200 years.

Although he had sworn never to return, Elijah had been sent a message from his younger brother, Niklaus. The message implied conspiracy—dear brother was consumed by the thought of all his cohorts betraying him at the slightest inconvenience—and Elijah took it as an immediate opportunity to establish a bond once again. Ever since he and their sister Rebekah decided to separate from Klaus after his attempt to sire an army of vampire-werewolf hybrids, he had cut contact with them entirely. 

Klaus’ paranoia was irritating, if not at all entirely exhausting in how every situation played out. Elijah knew that someday Klaus would realize that no matter how far he cast the stones, the birds of family would drop them back at his feet again.  _ Always and Forever  _ is more than just a family motto.

As he neared the French Quarter, Elijah thought it best to scout out his surroundings. He took note of a popular bar where tourists drunkenly stumbled in and out.  _ Rousseau’s.  _

_ Why not,  _ he thought.  _ Best to relax myself before the inevitable drama that is to ensue. _

He sat himself at the bar rail, where a pretty blonde girl with a round face was passing out drinks. She smiled kindly and asked for his order. He asked for a dry martini, with a polite smirk. She came back as quickly as the order had been heard, napkin in hand. 

“So what brings you to the Big Easy?” she asked jovially, setting the napkin underneath the martini glass. 

“I used to live here,” he replied, smiling politely.

“Really, when?”

“Oh, it feels like a hundred years ago.” Elijah’s smile gave a hint to a bit of laughter at his own inside joke.

“I just moved here myself, what brings you back?” The girl stood cockeyed with her hands on her full hips, casually awaiting his response.

“Well, my brother’s here somewhere; I’m afraid he might be in a bit of a bind.” Elijah sipped his martini, all the while maintaining eye contact.

“You say that like it’s a common occurrence,” the blonde bartender chuckled.

“Well, he’s complicated,” Elijah sighed to himself. “Defiant, ill-mannered, and a little temperamental. You see we don’t share the same father. Of course that never bothered me, but my brother resents it deeply. Never felt like he belonged. All told, he has a long history of getting himself into trouble.”

The girl’s eyes sharpened. Intelligence and beauty were always a striking combination.

“And I’m guessing you have a long history getting him out of it?” Her voice held the even tone of a professional. A shrink, perhaps? Elijah gave her another thin lipped smile.

“What kind of bind is your brother in?” She continued.

“He believes there are people in this town that are conspiring against him.” Elijah replied matter-of-factly.

“Wow, narcissistic  _ and  _ paranoid,” the bartender chuckled again, and then shook her head. “Sorry. Bartender with a grad degree in psychology, total cliche.”

Elijah smiled at the girl’s candor. She was sweet, if not altogether naive. Especially in this scenario.

“Listen,” he paused to glance at her nametag. “ _ Camille.  _ I’m looking for someone who might shed some light on his current predicament. She works here—Jane-Anne Devereaux? Any idea where I might find her?”

Camille looked pensive for a moment. “No, but I know someone who might.”

  
  


As he delved deeper into the Quarter, Elijah’s ears honed in on the voice of a tour guide. This woman was truly a show person at heart. She turned to the crowd of tourists, arms opened wide. 

“Welcome,” she began. “to New Orleans, and the crown jewel of the Crescent City: the French Quarter. Jazz and jambalaya, romance and poetry, not to mention things that go  _ bump  _ in the night.” her voice lowered conspiratorially, said she was sharing a secret that was just between them. Her dark brown eyes sparkled mischievously. 

She strutted past a tarot reader as they crossed the boulevard. The woman rolled her eyes at the tour guide’s growing yarn.

“Monsters that feed off human blood, vengeful spirits of the dead, and my personal favorite, the  _ Witches. _ ”

The woman introduced the crowd to the  _ Jardin Gris,  _ a local voodoo shop. She smiled blithely as she encouraged the visitors to peruse for a “hex”.

She ushered in the drunk, sunburned people through the door to gawk at the many occult items and crystals that sat in the shop window. She turned from the shop door and sauntered into the street where Elijah had been watching her.

“Are you gonna continue following me, Elijah? Or do you wanna talk?” her light brown skin glistened in the moonlight. 

“You know who I am,” Elijah replied, bemused.

“Original vampire, always wears a suit? You and your family are famous amongst the witches, especially with your brother back in town.” the witch’s eyes darkened with her tone.

“Well, Niklaus is here because he learned that a witch was conspiring against him. Someone by the name of Jane-Anne Deveraux.”

“Well if he’s looking for Jane-Anne, he’s a little late,” the tour guide witch snapped. 

Elijah’s face dropped. “Are you telling me she’s dead?”

The witch put her hands on her hips and sighed empathetically, her dark coily hair bouncing against her shoulders. 

“Come on,” her lips tightened into a thin line. “Her sister Sophie’s gonna wanna talk to you.” 

Elijah stood there for a moment, flabbergasted. This was not what he was expecting. But of course with Klaus, when was anything  _ ever _ predictable? He followed the witch down the boulevard and into the night.   
  
  


II.

By the time Avila and her friends had arrived in New Orleans, the sun had set and the party scene was beginning to come to life. The street lights began to flicker on one by one down main street, illuminating the magic of the city all at once. Street performers, tourists, and grifters alike seemed to rise from the ground and into the lights of the city. The group of teens and Abbie’s parents checked into their hotel in unspoken excitement. 

Abbie’s father, Dave, worked for a corporate law firm. As such, this work trip allowed him the privilege of booking 3 suites on the same 5th floor hallway. Each with 4 beds and 2 bathrooms. One for him and his wife Sherry, one for Abbie, her younger sister Lina, Avila, and Genesis—a classmate whom Avila had spoken to in passing; and one for Abbie’s brother Cyrus and his two friends Tyson and Roman, as well as Lina’s boyfriend Xander. 

Although Mr. and Mrs. Brown had explicitly stated that each of them had to be in their  _ own  _ rooms by 10:30–and  _ no sleepovers _ —there seemed to be an unspoken agreement between the teenagers that no one would tattle if rules were bent every once in a while. 

Avila let out a large sigh as she heaved her suitcase onto one of the full-size mattresses in their hotel room. The bedding wrinkled crisply under the weight, white and smelling slightly of bleach. 

“When are we going to eat? I’m  _ starving, _ ” Lina groaned, swooping her red hair up into a ponytail. The thick, muggy Louisiana heat had reddened her face, making the freckles around her large brown eyes even more prominent. 

“Mom said 8:00. Do you  _ ever  _ listen to anyone besides Xander?” Abbie leaned into the mirror on the wall next to the TV, swiping her hair—more auburn than true red—onto her shoulder and beginning to deftly braid it. “Every time you two are together it’s like you turn into zombies.”

“Zombies who are glued at the mouth,” Avila chimed in sheepishly.

Genesis and Abbie laughed as Lina huffed through the door to the other half of the suite. Avila had forgotten how good it felt to really socialize. After Micah had died, she had sort of shut herself away from the world, although maybe not intentionally. This was the first extended interaction with her peers she had had in almost two years.

Shortly after figuring out sleeping arrangements, the girls heard a knock at the door. It was Mr Brown. 

“We’re heading to dinner in ten minutes!” His deep, rich voice called through the door. “We wanna get ahead on the rush. Meet us in the lobby and don’t forget your key cards!”

The girls excitedly got ready for dinner. Not content on what to wear, Genesis loaned Avila an off white peasant top, and even braided a crown around her head to keep the more unruly of her blonde curls out of her eyes in the humidity. Avila was surprised at her friendliness, but the girl’s obsidian eyes sparkled genuinely. Avila decided to accept the offering of friendship instead of overthinking it into the ground as she did with most things. Looking into the bathroom mirror, she opted for a dash of concealer, setting powder and blush—anything else would be sweated off in less than five minutes. 

The girls were the first to reach the lobby. Hung from the high vaulted ceiling was an ornate chandelier, which cast a warm yellow light on everything around it. Avila craned her neck to watch the crystals bounce their light against the ceiling and railings above them. For a moment, she felt utterly calm.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” a voice chuckled behind her. 

Avila jumped. It was Roman, one of Cyrus’ friends. His dark olive skin shone in the chandelier’s light. He gave her a gap-toothed grin when he saw her startled expression. His hazel eyes held a mischievous glint she wasn’t sure she trusted. At nineteen, you would think he would have held some maturity over her, but Avila regarded the boy like she would a younger sibling. 

As she regained her composure, she smiled back. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”

“I wasn’t sneaking, you were just distracted. That isn’t my fault. And plus, it looked like you were trying to break your neck looking up like that.”

“Oh dear, I didn’t realize there was someone out there who cared about the health of my neck muscles so much!” Avila sarcastically feigned surprise, smirking and rolling her eyes at the curly headed boy.

“Of course! I am a true gentleman, it’s a pity more of you ladies don’t recognize it,” Roman gave an exaggerated bow.

Avila giggled as Tyson and Cyrus approached behind him. Tyson yanked Roman up by the back of his collar.

“Maybe save the flirting for girls of  _ legal _ age, my guy” Tyson cautioned. “If I’m gonna bail you out of jail I’d rather have it be an intox charge and not statutory rape.”

“Yeah man, she’s like, the same age as my baby sister,” Cyrus chimed in, running his hand back through his flaming red hair. “It’s fuckin weird.”

“I wasn’t flirting you pervs,” Roman retorted, straightening up and flattening his shirt. “I’m just trying to be friendly. I thought the point of vacation was to have fun and make  _ friends. _ ” He shot a wink at Avila that made her stomach churn.

“Yeah, friends with  _ benefits _ ,” Tyson sighed before slapping Roman across the back of his head. “You  _ don’t  _ get benefits from minors, you fuckin moron.” 

Roman winced and rubbed the back of his head, fluffing up his brown curls. He winked at Avila again as he headed to the lobby doors with the other boys. Avila tamped down the nauseous nervousness that sprouted up as he did so. 

It was another couple minutes before the chaperones of the trip made their way to the lobby. Avila and the others waited around anxiously to get started. As Mr and Mrs Brown finally exited the elevator into the lobby towards the gaggle of teens, Avila felt someone approach by her shoulder. It was Xander, holding one of Lina’s ornate purses. He looked troubled. 

“Hey Xander,” Avila said softly.

The blonde haired boy jumped, taken out of whatever reverie he was in. “H-Hey Avila, I uh..I..” he noticed how closely he was standing next to her and stepped back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get in your space or anything.”

“It’s all right,” Avila chuckled. There was always something sweet about Xander, which was why she couldn’t fathom how he and Lina were an item. He was like a walking doormat when she was around.

“Are you okay?” she asked him gently. “You seem a little distracted.”

He rubbed his head sheepishly. “Yeah, I just uh...I don’t know. I guess I feel a little out of place here? I don’t really know Cyrus that well, and Tyson doesn’t seem to like me all that much. And Roman kinda creeps me out. And there’s so much going on in the city, it’s just a little—“

“Overwhelming?” Avila finished his sentence for him. 

He smiled for the first time since the conversation had started. “Yep, that’s the word. And plus with Lina being extra wound up, it just feels like—-“

“ _ Babe” _ Lina’s cry was insistent, almost piercing. Avila swore she saw Xander flinch. “Can you come here? My stuff is in that bag and you  _ keep wandering off! _ ”

“Duty calls,” Xander sighed and turned in the direction of his girlfriend’s voice.

“Good luck,” Avila whispered as she watched him trudge in Lina’s direction. 

It was at that moment that Mr and Mrs Brown joined the group. “All right, gang,” Mr Brown boomed, his black mustache twitching on top of his grin. “Let’s rock n roll!”

  
  


They had opted to get an Uber to their destination due to the sweltering heat. Mrs Brown was nervous about ridesharing a stranger’s car but her husband assured her this was perfectly safe. 

“Sherry, it’ll be fine! One of my investing buddies has been following this app for a while. They have a great set up. I’m told this is going to get  _ really  _ big in a couple of years!” he grinned widely as he fished his phone out of his pocket. 

_ An iPhone 5s? That lawyer money comes in handy I suppose,  _ Avila thought to herself. She watched as Mr Brown opened his state of the art cell phone and ordered a ride. 

A navy blue mini van approached them about fifteen minutes later, its driver looked to be like a college student. 

“You Dave?” he called out his passenger door window nervously.

“That’d be me,” Mr Brown said jovially. “Let’s go, kids.”

“Uh...I don’t have enough room for all of you,” the driver said nervously, his Cajun accent warm and full. A bead of sweat ran down his temple. “I can only fit seven of yuh.”

Mr Brown pulled out his wallet, fishing out a fifty dollar bill. “This is all yours if you let us pile in for this one ride. It’s only fifteen minutes away, bud. Whaddya say?”

The driver contemplated for a moment, and then nodded quickly. “Just, be careful and don’t move around too much please.”

Mr Brown handed the boy the bill. “You got it! Let’s go kids!” 

Everyone gingerly piled into the minivan. Mr Brown took the passenger seat, and began making small talk with the overheated driver. Mrs Brown, Lina, Genesis and Cyrus had the first set of seats in the back, while the rest of the crew jammed into the final row of seats. Avila ended up on Roman’s lap, with Xander squished in next to them. She prayed to the universe that Roman would keep his hands to himself for the whole fifteen minutes. 

She glanced over at the other end of the minivan. Abbie had ended up in a similar position to Avila, and was essentially on Tyson’s lap. While she seemed relatively pleased with the arrangement, Tyson looked as if he was trying to figure out a way to push her off of him. Sweat glistened on his warm, brown skinned forearms and he looked extremely uncomfortable. 

Avila chuckled to herself as the van jostled along, knowing how long Abbie had had a crush on her older brother’s best friend. 

Her amusement disappeared as she felt a hand creep onto her leg. Avila’s stomach dropped as she felt Roman’s fingers dig lightly into the exposed flesh of her thigh. He teased his fingers lightly on the frayed edges of her shorts, and she could feel his breath on her neck. She felt as if she might actually vomit.

“Hey, you okay?” Xander’s voice came from her left. “You look a little queasy.”

Avila felt Roman’s hand slither off of her leg. Immediately her heartbeat started to slow. She tried to smile, but she was fairly sure it came out more as a grimace. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m just  _ really  _ hungry. And this driver takes his turns too sharply, I think.”

“I think you might be right,” Xander leaned in and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I just watched Abbie try to play off getting her head smacked against the window.”

The two snickered as they snuck a glance at Abbie, who was trying to nonchalantly rub the left side of her forehead. Tyson looked as uncomfortable as ever, trying to lean as far back from the seventeen year old as he could. 

Luckily, the van reached its destination shortly thereafter. Everyone piled out of the van, sticky with sweat and hungry. They gathered around the entrance of a bar called  _ Rousseau’s,  _ and Mr Brown led them inside.

“Dad, why are we at a bar?” Abbie asked. “I thought we were getting  _ food. _ ” Her tone was edging towards disrespectful. 

“Honey,” Mr Brown sighed. “You see that stand by the door?” He gestured to his right, toward a wooden stand by the bar, filled with menus. “That means they  _ serve food  _ here. And besides, one of my buddies here promised me a taste of his specialized whiskey. And you bet your ass I’m getting it!”

Abbie groaned softly as the group made their way into the bar’s dining area. They took up two booths altogether. A petite waitress with a chestnut bob handed out menus to everyone. Avila’s table; comprised of Abbie, Genesis, Tyson, Cyrus, and Roman decided on a plate of barbecued shrimp and a blooming onion after ordering their drinks. Avila sipped her sweet tea and tried not to think about Roman’s foot caressing her calf under the table as everyone made small talk. 

Her eyes drifted absentmindedly around the bar, gazing at the passing tourists and drunk adults at the bar railing. That was until she spotted a man in a well tailored suit, stirring a martini and talking with the blonde bartender. She could only see the back of his well trimmed head, but something about him caught her attention. She couldn’t tear her eyes away. 

Eventually the man downed the rest of his martini, nodding in thanks to the bartender and pulling out cash for a tip. When he turned from the bar railing to leave, his dark brown eyes briefly met Avila’s, and her breath caught in her throat.  _ She knew him _ . She didn’t know how, but there was a connection between them that she couldn’t place. Her eyes followed him as he left the bar. She suddenly became aware of her name being called, and she turned her head towards her friends.

“Huh?”

“I  _ said,  _ what are you staring at over there?” Abbie demanded, her pale freckled face disgruntled. 

“I wasn’t staring! I..uh..” Avila faltered, she felt her face grow red and embarrassed.

“She was staring at that DILF at the bar,” Genesis grinned between mouthfuls of shrimp. Her deep, blue-black skin was glowing and her ebony eyes were full of mischief. “You got good taste, girl! I support it!”

“Oh wow, I didn’t know you were into older men,” Roman joked. Something in his voice had an edge that made Avila uncomfortable. 

“I’m  _ not _ ! I was just spacing off, I swear.” She peeled off a bit of blooming onion from the large platter and bit into it ravenously, wishing they’d drop the conversation.

“ _ Sure,” _ Abbie laughed, flipping her auburn braid over her shoulder. “Whatever you say.”

The rest of the dinner went smoothly, save for Roman’s intermittent scowling every time he and Avila made eye contact. Mr Brown’s friend eventually showed up to give him that special whiskey sample, which they held in the back of the bar. He was tall, muscular, with brown eyes and skin a deep shade of terra cotta brown. His smile was genuine, not to mention sparkling white. He introduced himself as Marcel Gerard. 

He led Mr Brown to the back for the sample while Mrs Brown paid for the meal. Eventually the teens made their way outside of the bar to the sidewalk to wait. 

“Oh my  _ God _ , did you see that guy?!” Lina squealed, her freckled face flushed with excitement. “I don’t think I’ve seen a better looking guy in my  _ life _ !”

“Lina, that’s pretty fucking rude to say when you’re boyfriend is right next to you,” Abbie snapped. “You could at least be respectful.”

Lina rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t  _ care,  _ do you babe?” she tugged on Xander’s arm lightly.

“Nah, we’re all good, Xander said passively. He seemed completely checked out of the conversation. “I’ll admit, he’s a good looking dude.”

“Yeah, he’s cute,” Genesis chimed in, adjusting the white floral pins in her black coily hair. “But I think Avila really had something there with the guy at the bar. He was something  _ else!”  _

“I  _ wasn’t  _ staring, for the last time!” Avila cried, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah,” Roman added, sidling up uncomfortably close to Avila. “And plus, he’s not even that good looking anyway. I don’t know what the fuss is.”

“I wouldn’t expect  _ you _ to know what good looking was if it got naked in front of you,” Genesis retorted, placing her hands on her slim hips. “Avila and I have  _ taste,  _ unlike you!”

“Sure I have taste,” Roman smirked, putting his arm around Avila’s waist. She wanted to sidle away from him without making a scene, but his hand had a vice grip on her side. “Better than  _ yours,  _ I can assure you.”

Everyone in the group looked immensely uncomfortable. Avila’s heart began to race, and she could feel the sweat begin to drip down her neck under her blonde curls. Roman’s hand ripped away from her suddenly. 

“What the  _ fuck  _ did I tell you about going after my little sister’s friends?”

It was Cyrus, beet red in the face and furious. He had Roman by the front of his collar, and he looked ready to fight. “You’re being such a creep, what the hell is wrong with you? I should beat your ass just for pulling that shit!”

Roman stuttered incomprehensibly. No one had seen Cyrus this angry before. He looked liable to explode. Avila was simultaneously frightened and extremely grateful.

Tyson pulled the boys apart just as Mr and Mrs Brown exited the bar. Roman straightened his shirt, looking flustered and red.

“I heard there were some pretty cool tourist spots in the French Quarter,” Mrs Brown chirped excitedly, oblivious to the tension. “Wanna do some sight seeing before we head back?”

The group agreed (as if they really had a choice), and headed down the block to the start of a nighttime tour that was about to begin. When they arrived, they huddled in with a group of about fifteen other tourists, following the lead of the tour guide in front of them. Her light brown frame was slender, and she wore a golden yellow shirt that seemed to light up her eyes in the moonlight. Her dark curly hair was voluminous, taking up as much room as her personality. She smiled warmly.

“Welcome, y’all,” she said in a welcoming tone. “I’m Sabine, and I’ll be your tour guide tonight.”

With a theatrical flourish, she led them down the streets of New Orleans. She gave a fantastical narrative about the horrors and myths that had permeated the culture in the city since its inception. Avila listened along, relaxed and sort of daydreaming. Until she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. 

She whipped around to look behind her. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a figure move in the shadows. Her pulse picked up again, and she turned around, trying desperately to keep track of the movement she felt following her with every pace she made. Eventually, the tour guide stopped at a voodoo shop, named the  _ Jardin Gris.  _ She encouraged everyone to take a look around, perhaps shop for a hex. As the crowd moved into the shop, Avila turned around to face the mostly empty street.

He was there. In his tailored suit, with his dark brown eyes. Avila’s heart jumped into her throat as she stared at the tall, broad shouldered man. He had his eyes on the tour guide, Sabine. She turned and made her way into the street to meet him. 

Pulled by some unknown force, Avila made her way to the alleyway next to the voodoo shop and pressed her body against the wall. She leaned in to listen to the conversation. She couldn’t catch much, but she caught a few names; Elijah, (she guessed that was the suited man’s name) Niklaus, and...Jane- _ something.  _ She studied the well dressed man as he spoke. He had a well trimmed head of thick brown hair and a sharp, square jawline. His eyes were a deep brown shade, and he seemed rather stoic. Avila felt a sense of familiarity as she looked at him. Like she had known him her whole life. 

Eventually, Sabine led him down the street and into the darker part of the Quarter. Avila watched as they drifted by, and she had the overwhelming urge to follow them. She would have too, if not for the hand that grabbed her shoulder from the darkness of the alley behind her. She opened her mouth to scream and suddenly found her mouth covered. Roman’s face appeared in front of her. 

“ _ Shhhh,”  _ he cautioned, smirking darkly. “We don’t wanna get caught.”

He removed his hand from her mouth and replaced it with his lips. The weight of his body kept her pinned against the alley wall. She struggled underneath him, desperately wriggling her head away from his prying tongue. It slithered against her teeth like an onion flavored eel. He eventually made his way from her mouth to her neck, biting down hard. She let out a muffled sob, and his hand quickly covered her mouth again. 

“Just relax baby, you’ll like this I promise,” he licked the length of her neck before moving his free hand to fondle one of her breasts. “You’ve been teasing me since that goddamn car ride, so now I’m gonna give you what you want.”

Avila’s eyes filled up with tears, her heart felt as if it were going to burst. She was half convinced she would black out here and now. Roman braced one arm against her throat, with just enough pressure that she could barely make a sound. He used his free hand to unbutton her jean shorts, and shoved his leg between her thighs to force them open. He slid his hand into her shorts, inside her underwear.

“ _ Oh my god,  _ you feel so good,” he breathed into her ear. He circled his fingers roughly around her vulva until he managed to find her clitoris. “Doesn’t that feel good, baby? Oh yeah, I know it feels  _ so good _ .” 

Avila began to sob as he thrust a finger inside of her, and then another.

He began to jackhammer his fingers back and forth, bruising the delicate flesh. Avila sobbed harder, trying her hardest to scream, praying someone would turn the corner and find them. All of her muscles were so tense she felt as hard as the brick wall behind her. 

When Roman decided his massacre massage was sufficient, he lowered his free hand to his belt buckle. Avila closed her eyes, hearing the jingle of the belt coming undone and the zipper of his jeans coming down and knowing what he was planning to do next. Her mind went blank, trying to protect her from the incoming trauma. 

She then heard Roman scream, and the pressure of his arm was suddenly gone. She opened her eyes. Roman was no longer in front of her. She gasped, trying to catch her breath. Tears coated her cheeks, and she had bitten so hard into her lip that she could taste the metallic flavor of blood. She became aware of a grotesque, wet sound coming from her left, behind a nearby dumpster. 

Against her better judgement, she moved towards the sound. As she rounded the dumpster, she recoiled in horror. It was Roman, held in a vice grip by some unknown figure who was... _ sucking his neck _ ? The figure heard her approach and dropped Roman to turn toward her. Avila gasped. It was Marcel Gerard, Mr Brown’s colleague from the bar. His eyes were fully black, the veins around them bulging and monstrous. His mouth and chin were covered in blood, his teeth sharp and bared. 

Avila desperately wanted to run, but her feet seemed glued to the pavement. She began to hyperventilate. As she did so, Marcel’s eyes returned to their normal, brown, non monstrous state, and his teeth seemed to retract into his mouth. He wiped the blood from his mouth and stepped toward her.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s all right,” he smiled gently at her, almost in a fatherly way. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I swear. I’m just here to…” he glanced at the dumpster. “Take out the trash.”

Avila’s eyes traveled behind Marcel to Roman, who was lying in a heap on the ground. Blood ran steadily from his neck, and he was making the most horrid gurgling sounds. She looked back up at Marcel in terror as she realized what he was.

“Y-you c-can’t k-kill him,” she gasped. “H-he’s Cyrus’ friend. They’ll n-notice he’s m-missing,” Avila began to cry again, overwhelmed by the entirety of the night’s events. She didn’t even fight Marcel as he pulled her into his arms.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’ll take care of it. If you don’t want him to die, I won’t let him,” he gently stroked her hair. “Although if you  _ did,  _ I wouldn’t blame you at all.”

He pulled away from her, looking her directly in the eyes. She felt a sort of warmth come over her, and then nothing existed in the world except for her and Marcel’s dark brown eyes. 

“If anyone asks, you haven’t seen Roman,” Marcel recited intently.

“I haven’t seen Roman.” Avila replied, almost trance like.

“You got mugged in the alleyway while waiting for your friends. You’re fine, but shaken up. You won’t remember anything that happened here, or anything you saw. You understand?”

Avila nodded blankly. Marcel kissed her forehead.

“You’ll be okay, I promise.”

He whisked Roman’s body away faster than she could turn her head, and then she was alone in the alleyway again. She took a moment to take a deep breath before shakily walking back to the front of  _ Jardin Gris.  _

“Avila!” 

She turned to see Abbie running toward her. She felt her shoulders slump in relief as her friend approached. 

“Where have you been?” Abbie cried, placing her hands on Avila’s shoulders and looking concernedly into her eyes. “Are you okay? We’ve been looking everywhere!”

“Yeah I’m fine, I just...a couple of guys tried to mug me while I was waiting for you to get done in the shop.” The words felt strangely rehearsed and unfeeling coming out of her mouth. 

“ _ Oh my God! Are you okay?”  _ Abbie was practically shrieking.

Avila flinched. “Yeah, I’m okay, just shaken up. Good thing I didn’t actually have my purse with me.” She managed a shaky laugh.

“I’m just so glad you’re okay! When we couldn’t find you we got worried…” she trailed off in her sentence as she looked down, bewildered.

“Avila, your shorts are undone.”

Avila glanced down to find her friend was right. She reached down with trembling hands and buttoned her shorts up gently. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Like I said, just shaken up.”

Abbie looked doubtful, but said nothing more. When they got back to the group, everyone seemed relieved to see her. Abbie repeated the mugging story to her parents and Mr and Mrs Brown spent more than a few minutes profusely apologizing and even offering to call her grandmother. Avila politely declined and replied that she would just like to go to bed. On the way back up, Tyson asked if she had seen Roman, as he had also been separated from the group. 

“No, I haven’t seen him. Sorry.” 

Once again the words felt rehearsed and blank coming out of her mouth. She stood silently in the elevator as they went back to their prospective rooms. There was an air of anxiousness about everyone that she didn’t have the energy to acknowledge.

That night, she had the first of what would be several horrid nightmares. Things that seemed unspeakable, but inevitably coming for her, nonetheless. 


	3. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the midst of dealing with unexplained anxiety from events she can’t quite remember, Avila is confronted with and thrusted into a power struggle she has no business being a part of.

The next morning, Roman still hadn’t returned to the hotel room. Since he and Cyrus and Tyson were all legal adults, it would be difficult to report him as a missing person, and a good chunk of the group was convinced he found a tourist to hook up with and just decided to stay with her instead.

Avila couldn’t care less either way. Just the mention of Roman’s name made her nauseous, although she didn’t know why. She hadn’t felt like herself since last night. That morning she had spent twenty minutes in the shower, mindlessly scrubbing her body until the skin felt raw. And she hadn’t the slightest idea why. She also flinched if anyone came up behind her; she had almost punched Xander in the lineup up for continental breakfast. 

She felt so on edge and nothing she did made it better. She thought about breaking away to make some of Granny’s special tea, the kind she always made when Avila had anxiety troubles as a kid. But her hands shook too much to perform the spells that would be necessary, and on top of that, she didn’t want to be caught by anyone. You don’t exactly tell your friends that you come from a family of witches and expect them to continue to be your friends. 

So she decided to focus on her breathing, and tried enthusiastically to participate in every conversation her friends had. That afternoon Mr Brown had a conference for work, and Mrs Brown offered to take the group of teens out to lunch. Cyrus and Tyson declined, wanting to try to contact Roman again. Lina declined as well, declaring quite dramatically that she had a headache. She then demanded that Xander stay behind as well, to “make sure she was okay”. 

Mrs Brown gave a rather half hearted warning about being careful, and then urged the other girls to get ready for lunch and meet her in the lobby. 

“I don’t see why she doesn’t make them come with us,” Genesis said while changing into a powder blue tank top. “I mean, she’s fifteen, it’s not like she can say  _ no. _ ”

“She’s the baby, she gets to do what she wants,” Abbie sighed, tying her thick auburn hair in a top knot. “If I were to pull that shit, my mom would have dragged me by my ear to the lobby.”

“That’s bullshit,” Genesis replied empathetically, pulling her dark coils into a large white bandana.

Avila tried to maintain a look that indicated she was paying attention. She figured she was failing, based on the concerned look Genesis was giving her.

“Girl, are you okay? You’ve been out of it since last night.”

“Yeah, I’m good Gen. Just tired, is all.” Avila stretched her arms above her head and sighed softly.

“I bet you are,” Abbie replied, hiking a pair of cut off jeans over her muscular thighs. “Getting mugged sounds exhausting.”

“Even if you feel that way, you don’t have to look like it!” Genesis said cheerfully. “Come here, lemme do your makeup, babe. It’ll make you feel better.”

Avila simply sighed again, not capable of mustering the energy to argue with her friend. She pointed to the bathroom. 

“Makeup bag is in there, it’s the light green one.”

“Oooh, I’ll get an outfit for you!” Abbie chirped, rushing to Avila’s suitcase and beginning to rifle through it. 

Genesis returned from the bathroom with Avila’s makeup bag and began her work. She applied everything gently, but with purpose. Avila relaxed under her touch, allowing herself to be swept into the scent of blush and setting powder and lipgloss. When she finally opened her eyes, Genesis had a giant grin on her face.

“My work is immaculate, I don’t know how I do it!” She cried, clasping her hands together.

Avila stepped into the bathroom to gaze at her friend's handiwork. Genesis was right. It  _ was  _ immaculate. The concealer and blush had been applied smoothly and accurately, all but disappearing her blemishes and recently acquired eyebags, and a small but strong cat eye eyeliner graced her eyelids. A baby pink shimmering eyeshadow sat atop them as well, and Genesis had applied a lipgloss to match. She looked almost radiant if it wasn’t for the dull lifelessness in her grey eyes.

“Come look at the outfit I picked out!” Avila heard Abbie squeal outside the bathroom door. She let go of the breath she had been holding and strode back out to her friends.

Abbie had the best sense of fashion of anyone in their whole high school class, and it showed here too. She managed to pick out the best pieces of clothing from the menagerie of clothes Avila had managed to stuff in her suitcase. 

A pink short sleeved top, with flowers embroidered in lace at the sleeves, and her favorite pair of jeans with a tear in the left knee. Her favorite pair of white Chuck Taylors were the ideal choice of footwear even in the heat, as they’d be walking a decent amount today. 

“Listen, thanks guys, you didn’t have to do this,” Avila muttered nervously.

“I mean yeah, but we’re not the ones who got mugged last night,” Genesis replied kindly. “I’d want my friends to make me feel better if it were me.”

Avila smiled weakly. She didn’t know what was wrong with her, but she was grateful nonetheless for such understanding company. 

“Come sit here, I’m gonna do your hair before we go so it’s not a rat’s nest,” Genesis sat on her bed and gestured to the spot on the floor directly in front of her. “Abbie get my pick from the bathroom, please and thank ya.”

Abbie did as she was asked and Genesis got to work—rather painfully—untangling Avila’s curls from sleeping the night before. She ended up giving her two French braids, as immaculate as the face of makeup she’d given Avila just before.

“Pro-tip: get a satin bonnet. It’ll protect your curls so they don’t get like this,” Genesis said softly. She let out a warm laugh. “ _ Trust me _ .”

Abbie gave Avila a once over to marvel at their work. Her eyes darkened as they focused on Avila’s neck.

“I-is that a hickey?” She asked incredulously. 

“What?” Avila raised her hand to the side of her neck, which felt tender to the touch. She winced.

Genesis bent over to take a look as well.

“ _ Ouch _ , girl that looks  _ bad,” _ she grimaced as she gazed at Avila.

Suddenly overcome with anxiety, Avila rushed to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. A dark purple bruise the size of a golf ball was blooming on her neck. The longer she stared at it, the more frightened she felt.  _ How did she  _ get  _ this?  _ She began to feel dizzy, and realized she was hyperventilating. Abbie appeared behind her in the mirror.

“Turn around,” she said gently, leading Avila by her shoulders. “Hold still, I’ll take care of it.”

Abbie proceeded to blot the bruise with concealer, layer by layer, until it was almost completely unnoticeable. She then used her own setting powder—$25 from Sephora—and brushed it along the spot, to make sure everything stayed in place.

“Look, I don’t know what happened,” she said softly, moving Avila’s braids over her shoulders. “And you don’t have to talk about it. But I’m  _ here  _ if you ever feel like it. Okay?”

Abbie hugged her briefly before letting out a small sigh.

“Let’s go, shall we?”

The girls made their way to the lobby to meet Abbie’s mother. Her ginger bob bounced as she made her way to the girls. 

“Why don’t you guys just look like an Easter basket!” She exclaimed, clasping her hands together. Her Tennessee twang came through on the word “guys”, turning it to  _ gahs _ .

The girls looked briefly at each other. With Avila in light pink, Genesis in powder blue, and Abbie in a buttery yellow, they did  _ indeed  _ look like the contents of an Easter basket. They shared a laugh, and Avila felt okay for a moment. The heaviness in her chest alleviated slightly as they made their way to their lunch destination. 

It was a small café, located a couple blocks down from the hotel. It had patio seating, with large dark blue umbrellas to shield lunch goers from the hot Louisiana sun. 

“Whaddya think, girls? Wanna sit outside?” Mrs Brown asked, her green eyes sparkling cheerfully.

The girls nodded in agreement and the hostess sat them down at the table nearest the entrance. Everyone ordered water to drink, except Avila, who opted for another sweet tea. 

As they waited for their sandwiches to arrive, Avila took a moment to gaze around. New Orleans was different in the daylight. Still bustling, yes, but with a different kind of energy. Something less intense, a little more welcoming, she felt. She found herself beginning to relax a little more.

It was then that she spotted something that caught her attention. Walking down the boulevard, just past the café, was a man. Though not the man she had seen last night, the one she thought was called Elijah, he conjured up the same feelings within her. Like they had known each other for a lifetime. 

This man was a bit more slight than Elijah had been, with a close crop of sandy blonde waves at the top of his head and a beard to match. His cheekbones were high and almost feminine, and he had a full pout to his lips. And unlike Elijah, this man had noticed her, too. Briefly his grey-blue eyes widened in almost disbelief, and then darkened quickly to anger. He reminded her much of a dog getting ready to bite after being provoked. Her heart skipped a beat as he disappeared into the crowd.

She heard her name being called.

“Huh?”

“I was just asking whether or not you had settled on a university yet?” Mrs Brown asked kindly, sipping her lemon water. Her white blouse made her green eyes stand out even more.

“Uh, no ma’am. I’m probably gonna take a gap year, since I graduated so early. Give myself a bit more time.”

“Nothin’ wrong with that, nothin’ wrong with that at all! You are still young, only a year older than Lina. I think it’s wonderful you’re takin’ time for yourself.” Mrs Brown replied cheerily.

Avila simply nodded and sipped her sweet tea. Abbie and Genesis prattled on about prospective colleges until the food arrived, after which they ate in relative silence. 

Once the check had been paid for, Mrs Brown told the girls they’d be making one more stop at an antique store before heading back to the hotel. They trudged along amiably, making their way to a small shop called  _ Petites Merveilles.  _ A small bell at the top of the door frame rang as they entered. 

A small graying man with a creole accent welcomed them in, encouraging them to take a look around. Mrs Brown made a beeline for the antique vases near the back of the store, while Abbie took a peek at some vintage porcelain dolls. Genesis and Avila took stock of some things at the front of the shop, near the display window. 

Avila took notice of an old tricycle, maybe from somewhere in the 1940s. She rang the small silver bell on the top of the curved handle and smiled. Granny had one just like this as a girl, she had seen some old sepia toned photos of it. Little Sapphire, pedaling around without a care in the world. 

Genesis was approaching her with an ornately jeweled lamp, when she noticed something outside the shop window. 

“Avila, look up,” she said, pointing out the window into the street. Her voice seemed nervous, and it made Avila’s pulse rise. 

She gasped involuntarily when she looked up in the direction of Genesis’ pointed finger.

_ It was Elijah. _

Clear as day, standing across the street from the shop. And he was looking at her. Not just in her direction,  _ at  _ her. His brown eyes were contemplative and his jaw set firmly. She held her breath as they stared at one another, until she felt she might faint. 

“Girl, are you okay?” She heard Genesis ask faintly. The sound of her voice prompted her to exhale heavily. Her heart was pounding in her ears. “Isn’t that the guy from the bar?”

“I—I don’t know,” Avila lied. “Look, it’s kinda stuffy in here. I’m gonna get some air, see you at the hotel?”

She didn’t wait for an answer as she sped through the doorway, the doorbell jingling in her wake. 

Avila walked as fast as she could, willing herself not to sprint and call attention to herself. But she could feel him following her, and she had never felt so frightened in all her life. She sped down an alleyway, hoping to find a shortcut to the hotel. Just past the dumpster at the entrance she ran full force into something hard and fell backwards. She landed hard on her tailbone. 

Gathering her bearings, she looked up to see what had stopped her. Elijah was somehow standing in front of her. His eyes were blank, unreadable, but his sharp jawline looked tense.

“Wh-who are you?” She gasped out, already knowing the answer. 

“I think the appropriate question would be,  _ who are you _ ?” He replied, his baritone voice a strange mixture of accents that she couldn’t quite place.

She slid back on her butt away from him, beginning to hyperventilate. She wanted so badly to get away, but somehow knew it wasn’t going to be possible. 

In the blink of an eye, the man had yanked her onto her feet. She could feel his large hands firmly on her shoulders.

_ “Look at me.” _

Reluctantly, she looked up into his face. The world went all fuzzy and warm again, until it was only her and that blank pair of dark eyes.

“Listen clearly,” he said softly. “You will tell me  _ your name _ .”

The words slipped from her mouth without her control. “Avila.”

“Full name, please.”

“Avila Katherine Langmore.”

“Good. Now, where do you come from?”

“Senoia, Georgia.”

“Why are you here?”

“My friend invited me on vacation with her family, I’ve never been here before.”

His jaw began to slacken the tiniest bit. He loosened his grip on her shoulders slightly. 

“Forgive me for the lack of hospitality, but I’m going to have to take you with me. You will not utter a word, you will not call for help, and you will remember none of this.”

Avila sank deeper into his brown eyes. Before she could reply, he had hoisted her over his shoulder and sped off. So fast, in fact, that she had to close her eyes to keep the sharp wind around them from blinding her. Within a couple minutes, they had abruptly stopped. He set her gently on the ground, where she promptly vomited all over his shoes.

“ _ Sorry, _ ” she groaned, wiping her mouth. “I’ve never been kidnapped that fast before.”

Elijah grimaced before he promptly hoisted her up by the arm, leading her firmly up the stairs of an ancient plantation home. As he opened one of the double doors, he called out.

“If you don’t mind, I could use a towel!”

After a few moments, a tall slender woman with brown hair and large hazel eyes came into the foyer. She looked at Avila in confusion. 

“Who is she?” She asked, pointing in Avila’s general direction. 

“We‘ll get to that in a moment, a  _ towel, please? _ ” He gestured to the orange tinted vomit covering his otherwise immaculate dress shoes.

“Oh, right,” the woman said in surprise. “Gross.”

She disappeared into another doorway and emerged quickly with a grey dish towel. Elijah thanked her, and released Avila from his grip to clean himself. She thought briefly of making a run for it. It seemed he read her mind.

“Even if you get past me, I’ll be able to catch you in less than a second,” he said evenly. “It would be in your best interest to cooperate.”

Avila crossed her arms over her chest and huffed a sigh of resignation. She made eye contact with the brown haired woman again, begging silently with her eyes for help. The woman looked down in response. 

After Elijah had finished cleaning himself, he grabbed Avila’s arm again with his free hand while he made his way to the kitchen to dispose of the towel. He then led her into a parlor area, with tall curtained windows, where he sat her on a musty settee.

“Stay here,” he commanded, as if she could have gone anywhere else.

Avila nodded, her eyes cast to the ground. She heard him exit the room, calling “Niklaus!”

She heard another set of footsteps cautiously enter. She felt the other side of the settee drop under the weight of a second person. She looked up to see the brown haired woman, her large hazel eyes sympathetic. She reminded Avila of a doe.

“Hey,” she said softly. “I’m Hayley.”

“Avila.”

“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I think you should know Elijah won’t hurt you,” Hayley’s voice was kind, comforting.

“Listen, I wanna believe you. But this guy just stalked me, and then kidnapped me so fast I got motion sickness. So forgive me if I don’t believe his intentions are purely altruistic.”

Hayley opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by another voice. 

“Although I’m not privy to what Elijah’s motivations are, I can assure you of mine. And you would be correct in assuming they are  _ not  _ altruistic in the slightest.” 

They turned to the doorway to see the blonde man from earlier that afternoon. His full lips were pulled back in almost a snarl, and his teeth were sharp. His nasal baritone voice had the lilt of an English accent, which would have been charming had he not looked like he was going to murder her.

“Hello, Mother,” he growled, striding towards her, ready to pounce.

“What are you talking about? I’m not—“ Avila started to reply. Just before the blonde man reached her, Elijah stepped in front of her, appearing seemingly out of thin air. 

“ _ Niklaus,”  _ he chided, acting as a blockade. “Where are your manners? This is a guest in our home.” 

“Hardly,” Niklaus snarled, edging closer to Avila still. “She ceased being a guest the moment she tried to have us murdered.”

“What!? Seriously, I have no idea what you’re talking about! I’m not your mom, you’re like, thirty!” Avila cried, growing more agitated the longer Niklaus glared at her.

“Oh  _ please, _ ” he shouted, making her flinch. “If you were going to disguise yourself you could’ve at  _ least  _ picked a face less similar to your own!” 

“Klaus, can you chill out for  _ one second _ ?” Hayley interjected. She sounded incredibly exasperated. 

“ _ You  _ be quiet! You are on thin ice already, little wolf.” Klaus pointed a finger violently in her direction. Hayley clamped her mouth shut reluctantly. 

“Niklaus, I have reason to believe she’s not who you think she is,” Elijah began in an even tone. “Though the similarities to Mother are present without a doubt, I was able to compel her without any resistance. Mother would have never allowed herself to be influenced as such.”

“It’s just as likely that she’s pretending to be compelled to get you to let your guard down, you know how clever Esther is.” Klaus retorted, glaring again at Avila.

_ Esther.  _ Avila thought to herself.  _ Where had she heard that name before? _

“If you don’t believe me, try it for yourself.” Elijah stepped gracefully aside, to Avila’s horror. She leaned back into the couch as Klaus crept toward her menacingly. He leaned down, taking her chin in his hands and forcing her to look into his slate blue eyes.

“I want you to go into the kitchen, and take the serrated steak knife from the butcher’s block. Then, I want you to come back in here, and slit your wrists.”

Avila sank into that warm fuzzy feeling again, though she was terrified. She felt herself rise against her will, her feet gliding effortlessly across the hardwood floor. 

“ _ Klaus _ !” She heard Hayley scream. “ _ What is wrong with you?!”  _

She heard the distant sound of scuffling and Elijah’s muffled voice saying “Just  _ wait.” _

Avila felt her mind recoil in horror as she watched her hand remove the large steak knife from the butcher’s block on the kitchen counter. She gripped it tightly in her right hand as she made her way back to the parlor. 

They were all staring; Klaus with a rather evil smirk, Hayley in abject horror, and Elijah with mild curiosity. Tears filled Avila’s eyes as she sliced the jagged blade against the flesh of her wrist. She screamed in pain. The delicate flesh burned as a waterfall of blood came pouring out. And yet, there was nothing she could do to stop herself from doing the same to the other wrist. Her left hand trembled in agony as she slashed her other arm, shrieking again. She dropped to her knees, blood pooling on the wood floor around her. She began to sob.

“Well, I suppose you’re right, brother,” Klaus said with a shrug. “It’s not mother after all.”

Avila heard him strut past her through the doorway. “I’m satisfied.”

Avila watched the blood gushing from her arms, and began to feel dizzy. She didn’t realize she had that much blood. There’s no  _ way  _ she had that much, did she? Her vision began to grow fuzzy and she felt herself begin to collapse. Someone caught her before she hit the ground. 

“Elijah, help her,” Hayley’s voice was muffled in her ears. 

She heard the sound of teeth sinking into flesh and then the word “Drink.”

Before she had time to register what was happening, Elijah had shoved his bleeding wrist into her mouth. To her surprise, she began to gulp greedily, her throat filling with warm metallic wetness. As she did, the dizziness melted away, as well as the burning in her wrists. When she wrenched herself away, she looked down, heart pounding.  _ Her wrists were healed _ .

“How did you—? What did you do? I don’t understand..” Avila felt a wave of shock roll over her. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do now. She could feel her pulse in her temples.

“Here,” Hayley grunted as she attempted to lift Avila to her feet. “Let’s have you lie down for a second, yeah? Elijah, can’t we put her in one of the spare rooms? Just until she fully heals? I mean, she’s just a kid.”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” Elijah mused. 

Avila felt herself being lifted with incredible ease. Elijah was cradling her to his chest as he rose up a flight of stairs to the second floor of the southern mansion. She began to feel herself lose consciousness, and her head fell against his shoulder. She slid into complete darkness as he set her gently on a bed, where she had a deep, dreamless sleep.

  
  


II.

Elijah was unsure of what to do now. He supposed he could compel the girl when she awoke and drop her back at her hotel, but altogether it didn’t feel entirely like the right choice. Although the current mess involving Klaus, Hayley Marshall, and their alleged progeny was already causing problems, he felt this girl was here for a reason. Avila Langmore had a connection to this somehow, and he was going to find out what it was. 

He was already mulling over his future decision when Klaus reentered the parlor, eager to discuss his plan to help the witches rally against Marcel Gerard and take back his grand compound mansion and become King of New Orleans again. He realized quite late that Klaus’ plan involved sticking a silver dagger into his chest and leaving him to desiccate in a coffin until Klaus managed to gain his power. 

As the coffin lid closed over him, Elijah Mikaelson entered a meditative state, already planning his next move. 


	4. Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avila finds an unlikely alliance amongst the vampires holding her captive, along with blossoming feelings for someone she’s not sure she should even be thinking about. It seems things only get stranger the longer she’s in New Orleans.

Avila was woken by the sound of an unfamiliar woman’s voice.

“Oi! Elijah! Would you like to explain what this little brat is doing in  _ my  _ bed?” 

Avila opened her eyes to see a woman with platinum blonde hair and a full pout similar to Klaus’. She was standing in the doorway, looking disgruntled. Her creamy pale skin was dotted with a light smattering of freckles. She had an almost unearthly beauty to her. Her bright aqua eyes were shrewd and curious. 

Avila sat up slowly. “Wh-who are you?” 

The woman raised her eyebrows incredulously. Her English accent was slightly more proper sounding than her brother’s. “I should think that’s what I should be asking  _ you.  _ Y’know, since you’re in  _ my  _ bed in  _ my  _ house.” She crossed her arms over an ample chest. 

“I-I’m Avila,” she groaned as she rose from the bed. “Sorry for taking your bed. A blonde psychopath screamed at me and then he forced me to attempt suicide so Elijah let me sleep it off for a while.”

The woman’s eyes became more sympathetic. “Ah, so you’ve met my bastard brother Klaus, then. What minor provocation caused him to react so harshly?”

“I’m told I resemble your mother somewhat,” Avila replied, rubbing her temples a moment. “They needed proof it wasn’t her tricking them, so he hypnotized me to force me to slit my wrists. It all feels like a dream.” She closed her eyes tightly for a minute. 

“Klaus tends to do that to people,” the blonde woman sighed, uncrossing her arms and approaching Avila. She did not seem surprised by the girl’s admission. “Make their lives exponentially worse, I mean. I’m Rebekah, by the way.” she extended a pale, slender hand.

Avila shook it gently. “Pleased to meet you, I think? I don’t know, this day has been entirely too overwhelming.”

Rebekah smiled kindly. “I completely understand,” she studied Avila for a moment. “You  _ do  _ sort of resemble Mother, now that I think about it. But not exactly. You’re prettier, I think. Fortunately for you, that actually means you’re more in the realm of “beautiful”. Because if my mother was anything, it was beautiful.”

Avila rubbed her wrists, a ghost pain radiating through them. Had she really drank Elijah’s  _ blood _ ?  _ Had any of this actually happened? And where  _ was  _ she, anyway? _

A set of footsteps approached the doorway. Both of them turned toward the noise. It was Hayley. 

“Oh good, you’re awake,” she said, looking relieved. “Are you okay? You haven’t seen Elijah by chance, have you?”

Avila shook her head. “I literally just woke up. I’m good though, thanks for asking.”

“Well, wherever he is, he’d better get back soon,” Rebekah huffed. “I’m not spending a single  _ minute  _ alone in this house with Klaus.”

“Yeah, I’d rather not do that either,” Avila replied, pushing her hair away from her face. She glanced out the bedroom window. The sun was beginning to set. “Any chance one of you could take me back to my friends? They’re gonna wonder where I’ve been for the past six hours or so, I think.”

“Sure,” Rebekah said airily. “Anything to get out of this hellhole. Wanna ride along, Hannah?” She turned to Hayley.

“First of all, it’s Hayley. Secondly,  _ yes,  _ let’s go. I’ve got major cabin fever and it’s barely been a day.”

The trio descended the stairs to the foyer, only to be abruptly cut off by Klaus. 

“And just  _ where  _ do you think you’re going with my child?” His eyes narrowed at Hayley. 

“ _ We  _ are going to take this little one home,” Rebekah retorted haughtily, nodding in Avila’s direction. “And Hayley wanted some fresh air. It’s the least you could do after getting her knocked up with your hybrid demon spawn.”

“No, the least I could do is keep her  _ here _ , so Marcel’s lackeys don’t smell the stench of wolf on her and murder her on the spot.” Klaus growled, backing them up from the door.

“I am perfectly capable of handling Marcel’s idiotic posse,” Rebekah said nonchalantly, flipping her hair from her shoulder. 

“Forgive me if I’m not willing to take the chance,” Klaus said sarcastically. “Considering you just referred to my child as “demon spawn”, I’m not inclined to believe you’re willing to risk yourself protecting them.”

“If it’s important to Elijah, it’s important to  _ me,”  _ Rebekah snapped. “He’s the only reason I’m even  _ here _ , you rightful arse.”

“Yeah, and what happened to not caring whether we lived or died?” Hayley interjected, her eyes angry and incredulous. 

“Well, it seems I’ve found a purpose for you in my plan. And you can trust I will not risk it for  _ anything.  _ Take the little wretch home, but Hayley stays  _ here. _ ” Klaus marched forward and took Hayley by the arm, pulling her away from the door. She ripped away from his grasp and huffed into the kitchen.

“ _ Sorry!” _ Avila called instinctively. 

Klaus glared at her. “Off you go then, little witch.”

Avila’s eyes widened in shock.  _ How did he know she was a witch?  _

Klaus smirked as Rebekah rushed her through the double doors and into the night. They got into a red Porsche, and Rebekah sped off towards the city. 

“You know, for being alive a thousand years, it never ceases to amaze me how selfish my brother is,” Rebekah sighed, adjusting the rear view mirror a bit.

“So this is real? Everything that’s happened is real? Hayley’s  _ actually  _ a werewolf and you guys are..”

“Vampires, darling.” Rebekah flipped her hair from her face as it whipped in the wind

“You know, I always kind of thought that those were just stories Granny told to make sure I went to bed on time. For some reason, it just didn’t seem possible, even with the legends surrounding our family. I figured it was all one big exaggeration.” Avila stared out of the windshield in bewilderment. 

“You know, for being a witch, you’re really quite uneducated. And what exactly  _ is  _ this legend about your family?” Rebekah‘s eyes narrowed as she glanced at Avila.

“You know, I don’t mean to sound rude, but I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“Suit yourself,” Rebekah huffed and shrugged, unsuccessfully hiding her disappointment.

A sudden realization dawned on Avila. Klaus had mentioned Marcel Gerard. If  _ he  _ was a vampire, that meant Mr Brown was in a hell of a lot of danger. 

Avila put her head in her hands, overwhelmed by the entirety of the day’s events. “Oh,  _ what the fuck!” _

“Listen, don’t worry,” Rebekah said gently. “Once I pull up to the hotel, I’ll erase the rest of your memory and you can go back to believing we’re just fairytales.”

“ _ No,” _ Avila said vehemently, shaking her head. “You’re not gonna touch my memories.”

Rebekah looked slightly shaken. “Listen I can’t let you go if—“

“I  _ said, no,” _ Avila cut her off. “ _ You listen _ . Your psycho brother is dangerous, and he almost killed me. Now that we’ve crossed paths, I’m  _ never  _ going to be safe. If I keep my memories, I can protect myself.”

“Klaus will come after you if he knows you haven’t been fully compelled,” Rebekah said in a hushed tone. 

“So you don’t tell him,” Avila said in a level voice. Her gaze hardened. “I know you don’t owe me anything, we just met. But all I’m asking is that you give me the chance to protect myself. Please.”

Rebekah looked at her sympathetically. She gave a half smile. “Girls gotta stick together, right?”

“Thank you,” Avila sighed, feeling her heart rate return to normal. 

“Don’t mention it,” Rebekah pulled up to the entrance of the hotel. “I mean it, you can’t mention it to  _ anyone.”  _

_ “ _ I promise,” Avila crossed her heart as she exited the car. The street lights had just begun to come on. 

Rebekah nodded at her and sped off down the street. Avila trudged into the hotel lobby and straight towards the elevator. As she entered the building, something dawned on her. Rebekah had said  _ the rest _ of her memory. What did she mean? She remembered everything—-except for the moments between when she left the shop and when she woke up. Her mind was a blank slate she didn’t have any chalk for. She groaned in frustration.

When she reached her floor, she realized she didn’t have her key card, having left it in the hotel room when they left for lunch. 

When she approached her room number, she knocked rapidly. Lina answered the door. 

“Avila!” She cried. “Everybody, Avila’s back!”

Abbie rushed toward the door, shoving her little sister out of the way. She pulled Avila into a tight hug.

“ _ Where have you been!”  _ she shouted, pulling back and shaking Avila by the shoulders. “ _ We called you a thousand times! Get in here!”  _

She pulled Avila into the room and slammed the door shut. She then ordered Lina to text her parents that Avila was all right. 

“I’m sorry,” Avila apologized sincerely. “I left the shop to get some air and I got lost. My phone died, so I couldn’t call anybody. Eventually I found a cop who helped me get back here. I’m sorry I worried everyone.” She was a little concerned with how comfortable she was with lying to her friends.

“Listen, this is the second time this has happened where you’ve disappeared on us! My parents have called your grandma already cuz they didn’t know what to do, so you might wanna call her and let her know you’re not dead in a ditch.” Abbie had her arms crossed over her chest, looking worried and furious.

Avila asked to borrow Genesis’ phone to call Granny and receive the tongue lashing she knew she would get. She sat patiently as Granny laid into her. When she was done, she calmly repeated her lie, though she desperately wanted to confide in her grandmother what she had learned.

_ It’s real, Granny.  _ She wanted to say.  _ It’s all real and I’m so scared.  _

Instead she promised she wouldn’t wander off again, and to keep her phone charged. She ended the call with an “I love you”, and hung up the phone. She handed the cell phone back to Genesis. As she turned to go to the bathroom, she heard Lina’s voice. 

“Uh, Vila? You got uh...some um..” she trailed off while vaguely gesturing at her pants. 

Avila glanced down and realized there was blood covering the crotch of her pants. Unable to remember how it had gotten there, she said blankly. “Shit, must’ve started my period.”

She quietly went into the bathroom and shut the door, locking it behind her. She started the shower and stripped gently out of her clothes, only now realizing how sweaty and sore she was. She gingerly took out the braids Genesis had so carefully done that morning, careful to avoid looking in the mirror. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what she looked like right now. She massaged her sore scalp, letting out a sharp breath through her teeth. She collected her bathroom toiletries from the counter and stepped into the steaming water.

Upon contact, her muscles immediately relaxed under the hot stream of water. She felt as if she could collapse right there. She leaned against the wall of the shower and let the stream wash over her. Somewhere around the time she was rinsing her conditioner out of her hair, the tears started. And they continued all the way through the application and rinsing of her strawberry scented body wash, which she had gotten for Christmas that year. Eventually the tears broke down into full on sobs.

The sobs racked her body as she covered her mouth to mask the sound. She didn’t need her friends asking anymore questions, because she knew the true answers would spill out of her mouth with nothing to stop them. Only that mess couldn’t be cleaned up with a towel. No, that mess was indelible ink, the type that gets tattooed into your psyche. She wasn’t going to inflict that one anyone she cared about, no matter how much she wanted to. Would they even believe her, anyway?

Eventually she was able to pull herself together, turning off the stream of water and stepping out onto the off white tiled floor. She grabbed a stiff, bleach scented hotel towel from the rack above the toilet. Avila buried her face into it briefly, sighing deeply. How desperately she wanted to be as clean as this towel. New and disinfected and unaffected by the world around her. Resigned, she wrapped the towel around her body, and trudged through the rest of her nighttime routine.

With her hair combed and teeth brushed, she exited the bathroom, towel still wrapped around her. The room was darkened, save for the light of the TV, casting a bluish white glow about the room. Genesis was turned away from her, facing the window, seemingly asleep. Avila quietly bent down next to her suitcase to search for a clean pair of underwear and a shirt to wear to bed. Settling on an oversized Pink Floyd t-shirt, she carefully crawled into bed. Her sore muscles cried out against the cool, stiff sheets. 

Despite her racing mind, sleep came easily to her, much to her relief. 

Like the night before, her sleep was filled with nightmares.

II.

She awoke the next morning to Genesis’ alarm, which had been set to 6:30 am for some God forsaken reason. Her head throbbed, and her wrists held an odd, tingling sensation. She rolled over and found herself making eye contact with a very tired Genesis. 

“Sorry babes,” she yawned, exposing a mouth of pearly white teeth. “I promised Xander I’d walk with him down the Mississippi. We both wanted to see the sunrise and Lina doesn’t wanna get up that early.”

Avila stretched tenderly. “Mind if I come along? I need to clear my head.”

“Sure,” Genesis shrugged, flipping the covers down to expose her long black legs. “As long as you don’t go wandering off again.”

Avila crossed her fingers over her heart. 

“Swear on my Mama.”

The two girls quietly got dressed, careful not to wake the Brown sisters as they left. Avila was wearing a pair of coral colored running shorts; her second to last pair. She had thrown her curls in a messy bun and still sported the Pink Floyd shirt from last night. Genesis had on grey leggings and a dark green v-neck t shirt, along with a small backpack that functioned as a purse. Both of their key cards were in said bag. 

They were just closing their room door when they turned to see Roman opening his own three doors down. Unbeknownst to the reasoning, Avila’s heart leapt up into her throat. He made brief eye contact with the girls. He looked terrified. He quickly slid his key card, opened the door, and shut it behind him. The girls looked at each other for a moment.

“I didn’t know he was back,” Avila whispered.

Genesis shrugged, replying in an equally hushed tone. “Neither did I.”

They silently went to the lobby, where Xander was anxiously waiting for him. He smiled at them as they approached.

“Hey, Avila! Are you okay? I heard you disappeared.” He seemed genuinely glad to see her, which was strangely touching.

“Yeah, I just ended up getting lost. My phone died, it was a whole thing. I guess that’s what I get for trying to travel on my own!” She let out a half hearted laugh.

“Yeah well, either way it’s good to see you.” He replied with a grin. 

The trio walked out into the early morning darkness. The street lights were still on, but it was evident they’d be turning off soon. The sound of cicadas and crickets was still in the air, though much more subdued than in the evening hours. The air was sticky, but not as hot, which was a relief. They had about half an hour before the sun took that reprieve from them. 

Avila couldn’t help but travel back in her mind to her conversation with Rebekah.  _ Vampires walked among them. They were everywhere.  _

__ She began to think that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come out here this early, when it was still dark. She swallowed the acidic taste of fear and kept walking. She wished briefly that she had mastered some sort of cloaking spell. Granny had been working on it with her before she left, but she was still struggling. Too little too late, she supposed. 

As they came to the banks of the Mississippi, she noticed how close Xander had been walking next to her. She wondered if it was intentional. She also wondered why it didn’t make her nervous—at least not in the way she had been lately. 

As they settled their feet in the silt, Avila gazed over the seemingly still water of the Mississippi. The tall thrush brushed against her bare legs, giving her goosebumps. The air smelled dark and earthy. She knew just underneath that reflective river surface were currents and whirlpools that would suck you under faster than you could blink. She wondered what it must have to feel like to have to hide all that power just below the surface. How painful, how lonely it must be. Genesis’ voice pierced her flow of thoughts.

“Here it comes!” She said excitedly, her hands clasped between her small breasts. 

As they gazed over the tree line, the first rays of reddish purple sun were beginning to float over the horizon. They watched as the sky began to lighten from indigo to purplish red, and into soft pinks and blues. Avila was so mesmerized she didn’t even notice that she and Xander had intertwined their fingers. She was nearly breathless gazing at the beauty of the atmospheric transformation. 

“See, I told you it’d be worth it to get up early,” Xander told Genesis in an awestruck tone.

“What can I say,” she laughed in reply. “When you’re right, you’re right!”

As the sun began to truly take its place in the sky, the temperature began to rise at a pace none of them were comfortable with. Genesis turned to Avila and Xander.

“We should probably head back, don’t wanna miss continental breakfast. Tyson always takes all the sausage.” 

She then happened to notice the fact that the pair was holding hands. She made a show of reaching for her phone and clearing her throat, throwing a meaningful glance at Avila. 

Suddenly realizing what was happening, Avila abruptly pulled her hand away from Xander’s. He seemed hurt by the gesture. A pang of guilt washed through Avila.

_ What the hell was that? Xander had a  _ girlfriend.  _ They shouldn’t be out here, snuggling and watching the sunrise! Jesus girl, get it together!  _

They walked back to the hotel in relative silence. They met Mr Brown on their way to line up for continental breakfast.

“Hi guys, what’ve you been up to?” He said cheerfully, clapping Xander on the shoulder. “Up a little early aren’t we?”

“We wanted to catch the sunrise,” Xander replied nervously. He glanced at Avila guiltily. She quickly looked down, unable to meet his eyes.

Mr Brown smiled, oblivious. “Sunrise over the bayou must be beautiful! I might have to take your lead and try to catch it myself!”

He patted Xander on the shoulder again and strode off to join the line for breakfast, his rotund belly bouncing jovially as he went.

Xander let out a sigh, scratching the back of his head and looking at Avila. 

“I should probably go find Lina,” he said dejectedly. “She uh, likes it when we eat breakfast together.”

“Good idea,” she replied quietly. “See you later.” Avila watched as he headed toward the elevator, broad shoulders slightly slumped. 

She heard Genesis whisper, “Girl,  _ the fuck was all that about? _ ”

Avila shook her head. The last 48 hours had been a particularly unpleasant roller coaster, and she could barely remember the ride. 

“I don’t know, Gen. Shit is just weird right now. Can you just give me a break, please?”

“Sure, babe. I’m just worried about you. And I mean, not considering the whole girlfriend thing, you could do  _ much worse  _ than Xander.” She laughed, throwing her arm around Avila’s shoulders.

“Oh, shut up,” Avila said, smirking all the while. 

They managed to make it into the line before Tyson, thus securing themselves two pieces of sausage each. Eventually, Abbie and Lina came to join them, still in their pajamas and rubbing their eyes. Suspiciously, Xander did not join them. 

“Where did you guys go?” Abbie yawned before biting into a piece of bacon. “You were gone before we woke up.” 

“Xander wanted me to come with him to see the sunrise,” Genesis said between mouthfuls of cereal. “And my alarm woke Vila up, so I offered to let her come along.”

“Why would he ask you and not me?” Lina pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m his  _ girlfriend,  _ he should’ve at least asked!”

“He did,” Genesis rolled her eyes. “You told him you’d kill him if he woke you up that early, remember?”

“Yeah? Well I— I just— _ ugh! _ ” Lina groaned, angrily biting into her blueberry muffin and chewing loudly.

“Speaking of, where is Xander?” Abbie asked, covering her scrambled eggs with ketchup. “I thought he was gonna eat with us.”

“He said he was tired,” Lina sighed dejectedly. She glared at Genesis. “At least now I know  _ why. _ ” 

The rest of breakfast was eaten in relative silence. On their way back up to the hotel room, they passed Cyrus and Roman, who were looking decidedly disheveled. Roman refused to make eye contact with anyone in the group.

“Roman’s been really weird since he got back,” Abbie said when they got back to the hotel room.

“That motherfucker’s always been weird,” Genesis said derisively. “I don’t know why your brother keeps him around.”

“I think it’s mostly Tyson,” Abbie replied as she swept her hair up into a top knot. “They’ve known each other since they were kids, his family practically adopted Roman. I guess his parents were uh...not the nicest.”

“Either way, he gives me the creeps,” Genesis shuddered and sat down on her bed. “And he’s real bad at keeping his hands to himself. I hate dudes like that.” She shot Avila a meaningful glance. 

Avila remembered the car ride to  _ Rousseau’s _ . Her stomach twisted uncomfortably.

“I don’t know, girl. He’s  _ their  _ friend, not mine.” Abbie deflected

“If you keep tryna date Tyson, he’s gonna  _ have  _ to be your friend,” Genesis laughed as Abbie turned red in the face. 

“Shut up,” Abbie shot back, grabbing a pillow from Avila’s bed and throwing it hard in Genesis’ direction. Genesis caught it without blinking. 

“I’m just saying, you’re pretty obvious with it. I think it’s cute! But if it ends up working on Tyson then you’re gonna have to put up with Roman.”

“Nothing works on Tyson,” Abbie sighed dejectedly. “It’s like I don’t exist to him.”

“You’re his best friend’s little sister,” Avila said sympathetically. “Of course he’s gonna see you as off limits.”

“Yeah, or maybe he just thinks you’re ugly,” Lina said, popping her head into the room through the door that connected the suites. 

Abbie made like she was going to throw a punch, and Lina swiftly disappeared back through the door. Avila and Genesis burst into laughter. 

“ _ Ugh,  _ I just don’t understand boys!” Abbie said, throwing herself onto Avila’s bed dramatically.

Avila looked down at Abbie’s freckled face pensively before gazing out the window. 

“Honestly, I don’t know if I want to.”

III.

Roman Williams was not someone who scared easily. After what he had grown up with, he was hard pressed to find anything that caused his heart to pound and the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. But since arriving in New Orleans with his buddies, he had found it.  _ Oh, he had found a lot of it. _

The last thing he remembered before waking up in a parking garage was making out with that friend of Cyrus’ little sister. Avila. The next thing he knew, he was god knows where, with a group of not-so-nice looking men standing over him. 

Amongst that group was the man who had introduced himself at the bar at dinner.  _ Marcus _ ? _ Marshall _ ?

“Marcel, what are we doing with this guy, anyway?” A skinny man with an old school newsboy cap said, glancing at Roman disdainfully.

_ Marcel _ ,  _ that was it _ . 

Marcel smirked at Roman in a way that made him feel uncomfortable. “We’re putting him to work.” He turned to the group of men, addressing them all.

“I  _ was _ going to kill this rapist motherfucker, as is my duty as ruler and protector of this wonderful city. But the girl he assaulted has a lot more mercy in her heart than I do. So as a favor, I said I wouldn’t kill him. But she didn’t specify that I couldn’t use him as I please. And this sniveling little fuck, is going to be a spy.”

“Okay, what the fuck?” Roman interjected, trying to pull himself off the ground. He felt woozy and his head and neck were sore. He suddenly noticed the blood covering his shirt. His heart began to pound in his ears.

“I didn’t  _ assault _ anybody,” he said desperately. “We were hooking up! She’s a virgin so she was just adjusting to-“  _ Was she a virgin?  _ Roman realized he didn’t know. 

In less than a second, Marcel had lifted him off the ground by his collar. His feet dangled above the pavement.

“ _You_ _don’t speak unless spoken to!”_ he roared. Roman could feel his breath hot on his face. It smelled like blood. His eyes were black and the veins in his face were bulging “ _And I don’t recall asking for your input, you weak piece of shit!_ ”

Roman felt his blood turn to ice. His mind struggled to comprehend what he was seeing. He felt his bladder release, warm urine running down his leg.

Marcel looked down disgustedly and grunted before dropping Roman from his grasp. The nineteen year old hit the ground hard, losing his breath. Marcel turned back to the group of men accompanying him. 

“Heal him and then break his neck Thierry,” he said indifferently. “We have work to do.”

He walked towards a black SUV parked a few feet away, accompanied by all but one of the men. The one with the cap, Thierry, stayed behind.

He knelt down next to Roman, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Roman watched in horror as the man’s lips drew back, revealing a set of sharp fangs. His eyes blackened like Marcel’s had, with the same bulging veins protruding from his face. He bit into his own wrist, accompanied by a sickening crunching sound. He held the bloody flesh out to Roman.

“Drink,” he said, shoving his arm into Roman’s face. When Roman tried to turn away, Thierry grabbed the back of his head and forced his wrist into his mouth. 

Surprised, Roman found he almost couldn’t stop himself. He slurped greedily, the thick warm blood coursing down his throat. The soreness in his head and neck disappeared. He felt wonderful. Thierry eventually had to tear his arm from his grasp, as he did not seem to want to let go. 

Mere seconds after finishing the last drop of blood, Roman felt Thierry’s hands on his head. He briefly felt his neck snap, and then darkness.

By the time Marcel and his goons had dropped him back off at the hotel, Roman had never been more scared in his life.


End file.
